


Soft Time

by JosieBlossom



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Discovery, Self-Reflection, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, cherosie, there will be angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-16 02:33:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13626747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosieBlossom/pseuds/JosieBlossom
Summary: Fate leads Josie McCoy and Cheryl Blossom to be in the same place, at the same time. Unfortunately, said place is the last location on earth they expected to fall in love.





	1. Cheryl Takes The Fall

Cheryl stood before Judge Kevin Keller – eyebrow raised and lips painted ruby red – the very essence of defiance. This was purely for show, of course. Internally, she was shaking more than a foal attempting to stand for the first time.

 

Cheryl had been tried by the court of public opinion, quite frequently, during her rebellious teenage years. The majority of verdicts had been returned as _guilty_ by various juries. Growing up in the public eye was no easy feat. However, up until this point, her record had been squeaky clean. Not that Cheryl was complaining, though. Being so high profile could either be a help or a hindrance – it was a toss up. There were some people looking to make an example out of famous people, flouting the law and getting away with it. In the end, being a socialite from one of the oldest, aristocratic families in America had been a big, fat help. (Specifically her parents various associations with the DA’s biggest financial donors.)

 

She spared her mother a passing glance, over her right shoulder. The older Blossom met her gaze and nodded, so quick she almost missed it. _Pride_. Not easily recognizable, but it was there. She didn’t know exactly what to think about that. It was definitely a first from her mother, _particularly_ towards Cheryl. It truly spoke to the nature of their family, that doing something so...immoral would inspire such intense pride. Cheryl would have plenty of time to dissect their family dynamic, in her head, later.

 

Since the incident couldn’t be swept under the rug completely, this was the next best thing. Cheryl kept that in mind, while her attorney handed over a check, so that she could do her time in one of those comfortable, private prisons. Being in court, today, was just a formality. She’d taken a plea deal and was merely stating her verdict for the record. Cheryl Blossom would serve twenty one days in prison. Once she got out, there would be three years of informal probation, twenty five hundred dollars in fines/penalties and a four month alcohol education program. _Just peachy._

 

* * *

 

She had two days of freedom left, before reporting to serve her sentence. Cheryl was determined to make the most of it. (Her mother had set her up in a hotel room, as the family “temporarily fled their estate under the pretense of shame” - those were her mother’s exact words.) Cheryl had studied the prison manual, in and out. There were rules and regulations, just like state prisons, albeit fairly lax. Since you could bring your own clothes and supplies, hitting the stores of Rodeo Drive was totally necessary, and even excusable. Her long lost frenemy, Veronica had invited herself to tag along. The pair hadn’t spoken in months. She’d dropped Cheryl quicker than the network dropped their reality show, when Veronica’s drug problem had been exposed. Since the hearing, there had been a lot of press about Cheryl – complete with articles titled _From Heiress to Jailbird_ – and media savvy, Veronica wanted in. She had almost refused but she needed a friend – even if it was a fake one – right now. Though Cheryl suspected the brunette was getting the better end of the deal. Plus, _anything_ to distract her from her impending imprisonment.

 

“I’m on my way, bestie,” Veronica cooed, through the phone.

 

Cheryl almost jumped out of her skin, as Veronica burst through the door an hour later.

 

“Who the hell gave you a key?”

 

A devilish smile crept across Veronica’s mouth. “I know a guy,” she shrugged.

 

Cheryl rolled her eyes. Of course, she did. Veronica had quite the appetite for hotel staff, back when they were close. Cheryl had assumed it was because the brunette had spent most of her life growing up in her father’s own chain of hotels. Perhaps she’d underestimated Veronica. Maybe there were hidden benefits to being a sucker for a cheap, ill-fitting uniform. _Stranger things had happened_.

 

Veronica took a seat at the edge of the bed, crossing her arms. “So…”

 

“Small talk isn’t necessary, Veronica. We both know this is a business transaction. You’re desperate for attention and I’m in need of a distraction.”

 

Her friend nodded. “We used to be friends, Cheryl. Don’t you remember? I’d still like to know how you are, DUI aside…”

 

“I’m fine, Veronica, really. Thank you for inquiring,” she exhaled. Deciding to take a softer tone, Cheryl raised her eyebrows. “Are you still with that baseball player? I can’t remember his name. Chaz? Carey?”

 

“Chuck.” Veronica’s eyes widened in recognition. “No, that was just–”

 

“Let me guess: fake.” _Like everything else in your life_ , Cheryl couldn’t help thinking.

 

“Actually, I was going to say _temporary_. But I guess fake sums it up, too.”

 

She finally picked out her outfit and changed in the bathroom. Then, Cheryl threw on some shades and followed Veronica to the elevator in her most lethal little black dress.

 

“Are you scared?” Veronica asked, in a hushed tone.

 

All the redhead could do was nod, slowly, in response. Cheryl didn’t even have to ask in regards to what. She already knew. Believe it or not, they’d once had the type of easygoing friendship where they could finish each others sentences.

 

Veronica grabbed her forearm in response and Cheryl almost cried. The second they stepped into the lobby, Veronica put her mask back on. Cheryl expected Veronica’s crimson Mercedes, or something of equal stature. Imagine her surprise, when her friend strutted over to an attention seeking, bright pink Lamborghini – in full view of the paparazzi.

 

“Veronica Lodge, what the hell?”

 

“Get in jailbird, we’re going shopping!” said Veronica, over the constant cracking of camera shutters.

 

It was at that moment, Cheryl realized that Veronica was absolutely wasted as a socialite. If Veronica ever opened a PR firm, she could make a killing. Her old friend knew every trick in the book. _Well played_.

 

As the doors lowered, Cheryl got comfortable and a delightful melody filled the car.

 

“Who’s the artist?” asked Cheryl. The woman had a voice of an angel, as far as she was concerned.

 

“Okay, where have you been, Cheryl Blossom?”

 

“Embroiled in legal issues.”

 

Veronica shook off Cheryl’s deadpan response. “ _Anyway_ , Josie And The Pussycats are only the hottest thing to hit the charts since the Spice Girls.” She took her phone off the dash and threw it in Cheryl’s lap. “Check out the wallpaper.”

 

Cheryl pressed a button and stared at the screen. It was a picture of Veronica with three beautiful black women around the same age. All wore decorative cat’s ears. “When was this taken?”

 

“About six months ago. They went on tour, I attended most of their American dates.”

 

“Are you a groupie, Veronica Lodge?” A rye smile on Cheryl’s lips.

 

“For any of them, I would be. _Gladly_.” Veronica shuffled in her seat, a little. “Believe me, I've tried. The middle one, Val, she’s my fave. Her eyes are out of this world. They could seduce an angel, I swear.”

 

It wasn’t lost on her, how competent of a driver her friend was. Despite all the chit chat, Veronica hadn’t taken her eyes off the road for a second. Jason could learn a thing, or two. On second thoughts—considering the long-term, colossal crush Veronica harbored for her brother—she didn’t want Jason learning anything from her friend. Cheryl’s finger gently brushed the screen, over one member in particular.

 

Cheryl tilted the screen in Veronica’s direction. “What’s her name?”

 

Veronica raised her eyebrows at the question. “That’s the eponymous, Josie. Of course the lead singer would be the one to catch your eye. How cliché.”

 

“I hope you’re not insinuating–”

 

“Save it for someone who doesn’t know you,” said Veronica, holding up her hand. “Can you believe it, Cheryl? I’m so much of a Pussycat devotee that I turned down a date with Josie’s ex. I mean, how loyal can you get? Anyway, the band have been totally quiet, lately. I guess that’s unsurprising, when your front woman is arrested. Me and the lady who runs their biggest fan blog, are trying to find out what’s going on.”

 

This news surprised Cheryl. It had only taken a photo for her to already be invested in this group. “What happened?”

 

“Reggie Mantle is _ridiculously_ attractive, but I hear he’s an ass. They broke up, after years of dating. There was an incident with his car…some paparazzo was following her, at the time. They say she slapped him, but I think that’s hearsay. The judge banned the media from his courtroom. Said he didn’t want the trial to turn into a media circus.”

 

* * *

 

After a mani-pedi, brunch, shopping, afternoon tea and more items than two porters could carry, Cheryl felt relieved to be back at her hotel. If she was completely honest, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon. She might have even been on the brink of enjoying herself, but Veronica didn’t need to know that. Cheryl sent a cool but graceful text, thanking her old friend.

 

Cheryl walked into her suite, where porters were loading the last of her things. It had turned into Grand Central Station. She took out her purse to tip them, when a voice came out of nowhere.

 

“I already took care of it.”

 

Cheryl’s widest smile, in weeks, spread across her face. “Jason! Oh my God!” she screamed, running over to her big brother. She stepped back to take a good look at him. The dark circles around his eyes had reduced, dramatically. His skin was almost back to its usual vibrancy. “You look great!” Suddenly, concern spread through Cheryl’s body. “Aren’t you supposed to still be at the clinic?”

 

“Please, stop worrying. I’m doing so well that I’m allowed out for a few hours, now. So I thought I’d come and see how my favorite person was doing.”

 

Cheryl waited for the last of the hotel staff to leave, until she said another word. They sat in easy silence.

 

“I’m glad that you’re better.”

 

“Well, I’m getting there, thanks to you.” He turned to her. “Sister, I will never be able to make it up to you.”

 

“It’s fine, Jay.”

 

“No, it’s not. I got into a car, drunk and high out my mind, with my baby sister in the passenger seat. All because I didn’t want to admit I had a problem. I could have killed someone. I could have killed _you_.” The wind was knocked out of him, from the last sentence. “Now, you’re about to pay for my crime. I’m sorry.”

 

Cheryl hugged her brother and squeezed him tightly. Seeing her brother finally get the help he needed, cemented the fact she'd do this whole thing all over again ( _without_ hesitation).

 

* * *

 

The rest of the weekend had passed in the blink of an eye. On her last night, as a free woman, flashes of _that_ dreadful night passed through her mind. Honestly, she hadn’t _thought_ about taking the blame, she'd just acted on instinct. The puff of her father’s chest was enough to tell her she'd made the right decision. Jason was the intelligent one. The Blossom child who would carry on the family name, and continue to make them prosperous. Assuring this future, had finally made Cheryl valuable to her parents. Now, she was about to pay the price for that privilege.

 

Cheryl closed her eyes and allowed Josie’s voice to filter through her headphones, gently lulling her to sleep.

 

 


	2. Josie Goes To Jail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Josie's turn to face her new reality. Hopefully, she'll get by with a little help from her friends (and bandmates).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be some typos because I finished this, pretty late. Hope you like it!

"How did you sleep?" asked Valerie.

 

"Poorly," said Josie. She didn't want to worry her. Truth was, Josie hadn't slept at all. So it technically wasn't a lie.

 

Josie narrowed her eyes, as she looked passively out of the tinted car windows. She was paralyzed by fear. Until she left the car, none of this was real. _I’m glad Mom isn’t here to witness this_ , she thought. Thankfully, Sierra McCoy was on a second honeymoon with Josie’s stepfather, Tom. She was not in the mood to be lectured, by either of them. Josie had hit rock bottom, in full view of the adoring public. That was more than enough punishment. Josie smoothed out the pleats of her black dress. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore something, of her own accord. During the trail, her lawyer had instructed her to wear either white, or pastel colors. Apparently it helped convey a picture of innocence to a jury. (What a lot of help that had been, _not_.) Now, her publicist was telling her to wear black. The irony being that in jail, she could wear whatever the hell she wanted.

 

There was a tiny, silver lining to all of this. By having a run in with the law, Josie had now joined the ranks of several of her idols (who had endured the same thing).

 

"There really are a lot of cameras out there," said Valerie.

 

As usual, the media had no sense of boundaries. They wanted a blow-by-blow account of every humiliating step she took, today. Some even had microphones, at the ready. She wouldn’t be speaking to anyone.

 

Josie shook her head. "I told you guys _not_ to come."

 

"We're your best friends. It's not like we had a choice," answered Valerie.

 

"Yeah. We promised to always stick together, through good and bad," added Melody.

 

"And now you're guilty by association," she said, quietly. It's not that Josie didn’t appreciate their support (she really did). Their friendship was important to her, of course, it came as naturally as breathing air. Luckily, she’d never had to survive without it. However, their reputation (both joint and singular) was also incredibly important. At certain points, before the trio had hit the big time, it was literally all they had. People eventually gave them chances because they had such a good rep. The Pussycats were everything a record label wanted in a group: talented, marketable and dedicated. Now, that was practically all up in smoke. The fault being Josie’s, alone. The last thing she wanted, was to bring them down with her.

 

" _Please_ ," said Valerie, rolling her eyes. "All this nonsense over a camera, for God's sake. We all know _why_ this is happening. You don’t deserve it.”

 

“I read about some _high society darling_ ,” Melody said, in a mocking tone, “who was so drunk, she was driving down the wrong side of the highway. And she was involved in a fender bender. She got less time than you. Society sucks.”

 

“Maybe this was a good thing. It showed that you and Reggie weren’t meant to be,” said Valerie, shrugging.

 

 _Reggie_ , she thought. The missing piece to this hellish equation. At first, they went together like a lighter and accelerant. Admittedly, _not_ an ideal combination for most people, but it worked for them. Their blood burned so passionately, when they were together. That fire had been burning for about four years straight. The intensity never lessened. For most couples, that would normally be considered a good thing. It ensured the relationship never became stagnant. In fact, that’s exactly what Josie had thought, too. Reggie challenged her, had a body that would make Adonis weep with envy _and_ he was successful. The perfect guy, by all means. Lately, however, they were like oil and water. Josie wanted _something more,_ but she wasn’t entirely sure _what_ that was. Then came “the break”, which was really the inciting incident. Her old college friend, Chuck, was in town and they went out for a – very platonic – drink. Of course, someone took their picture. The next thing she knew, Reggie was seen driving around with some girl. The car was technically his but it had been a birthday gift, from Josie. It burned her up inside, and she just saw red. Feeling pathetic, and more than a little sorry for herself, she got drunk and did something she wasn’t proud of. If she was completely honest, Josie couldn’t remember the _exact_ details. She remembered writing something on Reggie’s car, in permanent marker. Then she spotted a paparazzo and had panicked. At first, she was just going to reason with him. He had refused to take any money, in exchange for deletion of the picture. The next thing she recalled was the lens of his camera, smashed to pieces, at her feet. She could have sworn, in one interview, that the man had even been wearing a neck brace. The whole thing was nonsense because she had never touched him (that much she definitely remembered). Long story short, she and Reggie were just bringing out the worst in each other.

 

The entire situation had just snowballed into where she found herself, currently. She wasn’t entirely sure, if their relationship was actually done. Uncertainty was her least favorite thing. Josie could see them doing this dance forever and it gave her stress headaches.

 

That definitely didn’t sound fair, but it wasn’t completely unexpected. There were different rules for different people. It sucked but it was what it was.

 

"I'll read you something to help. _Tips for surviving prison_ ," said Melody, looking at the lit screen of her phone. " _Keep your head down, mind your business and be polite, but not overly friendly_ -"

 

When Josie became anxious, she got quiet. On a tension scale of one to ten, she was riding a high eight. Josie’s fingernails dug into the leather seat.

 

“Melody, that’s not helping.” said Valerie, observing Josie closely.

 

Valerie talked about making plans for once Josie was free. A good jam session was long overdue. It had been a few months, since she'd been in the right frame of mind to work on any new material. Just the thought of doing what she loved most, loosened her grip on the seat.

 

An epic fall – in people’s memories – could be easily outshined by an epic climb. This was the first first step. All Josie had to do, was get out of the _damn car._

 

* * *

 

The second she stepped into the prison, it felt like was being watched. This made sense since there were cameras, _everywhere_. Josie was used to having tens of thousands – sometimes even hundreds of thousands – of eyes on her, at any one time. Those eyes were usually adoring, with bated breath, anticipating her next move, so they could adore her even more. The current eyes she felt observing her were anticipating a wrong move and ready for their call to action. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

 

 _You're going to get through this_ , she told herself.

 

She was signed in, at the reception desk, then escorted to a side room. Josie accepted her first cup of coffee, after she had been searched by a female guard. It took all of Josie’s willpower to steady the paper cup in her hands. She knew they were only doing their job, but the humiliation of it all was almost surreal. Josie was grateful that the guard had avoided eye contact. Her lips trembled and she was screaming, internally.

 

 _You're going to get through this_ , she told herself.

 

Josie accepted another cup, while they searched her belongings. Again, they were professional and didn't linger. The whole thing was just something she'd have to adjust to.

 

 _You're going to get through this_ , she told herself.

 

Her third cup of coffee came, as she signed some forms and was informed about prison rules. By this time, reality had set in and her hands were steady.

 

 _You're going to get through this_ , she told herself.

 

* * *

 

Josie was given a tour around "the facility", as he called it, by Officer Andrews. He was incredibly sweet, but definitely not the type she expected to work there. Apparently, he was also a fan of the band. Officer Andrews was just full of surprises. Josie also saw signs of an amazing body, underneath that restrictive uniform. The prison wing resembled a hospital wing, more than state prisons she'd seen in various documentaries. Everything was on a smaller scale. There were two inmates to a room. (Well, they called them "guests", which was just ridiculous. Since real guests were free to leave, whenever they wanted. And this was not the case.) Hopefully, Josie could at least be civil with her. She just wanted to do her time quickly and peacefully.

 

There were only a few looks of recognition among the prisoners. However, the majority didn't recognize her. It was a blessing. This definitely wasn't her target demographic. There were a lot of people, who looked like they lived in gated communities and named 'attending farmers markets' as their biggest hobby.

 

"They generally call prison sentences hard time. But if you're lucky enough to serve at a place like this," he said, looking around, "the guards have a running joke: we call it _soft_ time."

 

Josie understood, why. Sure, they were still surrounded by barbed wire and the food looked pretty primitive but it beat county jail. It was only twenty-eight days. As the officer showed the songstress to her room, Josie felt relief wash over her. She wouldn't be faced with the sheer indignity of watching her roommate use the toilet, the bathroom was en suite. There was a large TV, hot water never ran out and there was a large assortment of books and movies. Perhaps this would be bearable.

 

"I'll leave you to get unpacked. Your roommate should be arriving, later," he said, exiting the room.

 

Josie was placing a few items in her allocated storage, when she heard a knock on the door. Her head whipped around to see a slender white woman, all in gray. Josie waited for the woman to speak, first.

 

"I saw you arrive, I just wanted to be the first to greet you."

 

As nice as this jail was, Josie still wasn't looking to make any friends. "Thank you, that's very kind."

 

The woman moved closer, extending her hand. "I'm Geraldine. What are you in for?" she asked, glasses framing curious eyes.

 

Josie hesitated, "I'm Josephine. I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." She couldn't bring herself to shake the stranger's hand.

 

Geraldine smiled and shook her head. "It doesn't really matter. I'm innocent, anyway. Nice meeting you. I'm a big fan." She left.

 

* * *

 

Halfway through the afternoon, Josie went into the bathroom. She took a good look at herself in the mirror. At that moment, she was the recognizable, Josie McCoy. This atmosphere made her want to be someone else. She removed all of her make up and clumsily braided her hair. Josie had just become plain, old Josephine. She intended to remain that way, until the duration of her stay was complete.

 

 

 


	3. Cheryl Gets A Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheryl arrives to serve her time with a bang, in accordance to Blossom tradition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone who has left kudos and/or a comment. Words can't express the extent of my appreciation. Your feedback gives me such encouragement.

Seeing Veronica step up to the plate was odd for Cheryl. That was usually her role. So she didn't quite know how to react. She initially wanted to go in, unaccompanied, but Veronica had insisted otherwise. Her friend arrived, pretty early, with breakfast. That took effort because she knew Veronica hated being out of bed before noon. Cheryl got her fill of smoked salmon bagels and chamomile tea because she knew not to expect it in prison.

 

"If _Orange Is The New Black_ is anything to go by, you might even find a girlfriend in there," said Veronica, poorly attempting to suppress her laughter.

 

"Shut up, Veronica!" said Cheryl, throwing a pillow at her. Her pout disguised a smile. She'd never discussed her sexuality with her friend. She'd barely even dated. Cheryl wasn't sure how Veronica knew. Maybe it was obvious. "I've decided I'm going to buy my own place, when I get out. What do you think?" It was something for her to look forward to. The family home was so big, that it had never felt crowded. They were all on different schedules. They often went weeks without ever seeing each other. Cheryl always had the means to live elsewhere, but never felt compelled leave the nest. Even if she didn't have her trust fund (which she did), her reality show days had been very good to her. Now, felt like the right time.

 

"That's a great idea. Is there anywhere, in particular, you had in mind?"

 

Cheryl nodded, taking another sip of tea. "Malibu, Glendale, or even Brentwood. Right now, Malibu is definitely my first choice. Could you even imagine waking up to the beach, every day? I'd be satisfied anywhere outside of L.A. I want to be close, but not too close, to my family."

 

"Brentwood is way too far. I'm surprised Beverly Hills didn't make your list."

 

That had been a deliberate choice. Cheryl didn't want to be too close to Veronica. Things were good now, but she was unsure of how long that would last. "Been there, done that. I want somewhere I've never lived, before. I yearn for adventure."

 

"I'll keep an eye out for anywhere I think you'd like."

 

Cheryl nodded, as she took another bite. Veronica's phone buzzed and she looked up at Cheryl in excitement. "Oh. My. God. Cheryl, you will not believe this."

 

"I told you, no news."

 

"Yes, but it's celebrity news which is mostly factual gossip. That doesn't even count. Trust me, Cheryl, you'll want to hear this."

 

"Veronica, my self imposed media blackout is absolutely necessary. Whatever it is, you can give me the full story, later. Right now, I don't want to hear it."

 

"Fine." Veronica huffed and crossed her arms.

 

Cheryl needed this peace of mind, right now. "Thank you." She got up from the bed and opened the small closet.

 

There was a few moments of awkward silence, before either of them spoke again.

 

"I brought a more suitable car, today. In case you were wondering."

 

She had been, but it was pretty low on her list of things to worry about, right now.

 

"Are you positive you're okay?"

 

"I'm a Blossom, Veronica, we're made of Teflon. We're also known to prey on the weaknesses of others, wherever we may go. It's the other inmates you should be concerned about. I'll be fine."

 

This elicited a surprised response from her friend. "I've never really heard you talk like that."

 

"Where I'm going that attitude may come in handy. I was just giving you a preview. Looks like it served its purpose." Cheryl removed another dress from a hanger and placed it in her suitcase. The only way to get it closed was with her sitting on it, while Veronica zipped it up. Just because she was going to be behind bars, it didn't mean that she had to look awful.

 

"For the love of God, Cheryl," Veronica said, looking straight into her eyes, "be careful in there. You're the only real friend I have to lose."

 

* * *

 

When Veronica dropped her off, she'd been greeted by the Warden himself, Fred Andrews. He made her sign a few things and gave her a long speech about their three strike system. Cheryl was _fuming_. She'd just been taken into a side room and treated like a common criminal. Okay, technically she was exactly that. However, it didn't stop Cheryl from being absolutely incensed and glaring at anyone who crossed her path. That included Officer Anders, or whatever his name was. He was pleasant enough but Cheryl wasn't in the mood to return the favor. She just followed him around, sunglasses on, with a sour disposition plastered on her face. The place wasn't quite the Ritz-Carlton but it was surprisingly acceptable. A group of women were gardening, others were playing tennis. Cheryl paid careful attention to every square inch she was escorted to. The guard just smiled as she wiped her pointer finger along every surface. She was just looking for something to complain about. It was her way of retaking some of the dignity she'd been hemorrhaging, since she'd arrived. Cheryl had to hand it to them, it was pretty clean.

 

"I'll take you to your room."

 

"Thank you, Officer Anders."

 

"It's Andrews," he smiled. It was the type of smile that would instantly charm any girl, who was into that sort of thing. Fortunately, Cheryl was _not_ one of those girls.

 

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you related to the Warden?"

 

"He's my dad."

 

 _Nepotism_. In a weird way, it increased her respect for him. Ever so slightly.

 

He led her down a hallway filled with doors, on both sides. Most of the doors were ajar. One woman was braiding another woman's hair, on a bed. Others were staring at flat screen TVs. There were even a pair, who were cuddling in the same bed.

 

In Cheryl Blossom's twenty-four years of life, she had yet to share _anything_. Now, she'd have a pair of beady eyes watching her every move. Needless to say, Cheryl wasn't looking forward to it.

 

* * *

 

"Josephine, this is your new roommate, Cheryl," said Andrews, addressing the woman on the bed. He turned to Cheryl, "Cheryl, this is Josephine."

 

Cheryl's heart jumped (not in a good way). She could only see a side profile, as the woman was facing the television. The woman looked...normal, probably around the same age. Cheryl wasn't sure what else she'd been expecting. However, she probably didn't outweigh Cheryl, which might just give her a fighting chance. A lump formed in her throat, as she decided a display of aggression would be the best course of action. Cheryl Blossom would be nobody's bitch in here. She wanted that known. As the woman turned her head, Cheryl averted her gaze.

 

"You two ladies try and play nice, now." Officer Andrews closed the door, behind him.

 

“Hillbilly,” she said, under her breath.

 

Cheryl immediately gave the woman her back. She struggled with the packed suitcase for a few moments. The guards hadn't repacked it properly. Opening it seemed like a near impossible task.

 

"You want some help?" Her roommate asked.

 

Cheryl sighed. "I don't want you getting the wrong idea about me," she said, totally ignoring the question. "I'll have you know, I can take care of myself. Trying anything with me would be...unwise."

 

"Forget I asked. I'm not looking for any trouble, I was just offering some help. It looks like you've got it all figured out."

 

She frowned in confusion. That had not been the reaction she was expecting. Thinking about it some more, she took a seat on the bed. She’d prefer to sleep in what she had on, than admit defeat. "Is there anything worth watching?"

 

"We could watch a movie, but you'd have to tell me what you're into."

 

Cheryl just pursed her lips in response.

 

"You're pretty stuck up for someone who’s sharing, what is essentially a jail cell, with me."

 

Josephine was right, of course, but that wouldn't deter Cheryl.

 

* * *

 

Cheryl was awoken by a firm shake. "What?!" she barked, pulling the comforter over her head.

 

Thankfully, Josephine had resisted the urge to strangle her in the night. That was incredibly nice of her. Cheryl had been so scared. Sharing a room with a stranger destroyed any chance of a good night’s sleep. By the time she managed to fall asleep, the sun had already come up. Also, white lace dresses were not prime sleeping material. Having to find that out, had been all her own fault.

 

"Breakfast," said Josephine.

 

Cheryl became Josephine’s shadow. She was the only person – in this place – who Cheryl knew, for sure, wouldn’t kill her, as she slept. That had earned Josephine some major trust. Not that she was going to tell her that.

 

A couple of people stared at Cheryl’s outfit, as she entered. She forgot about that. However, she held her head high. She kept telling herself that she was better than every, single person in the room. That helped, a little. There was an array of faces and ages, which surprised her. Crime wasn't limited to one particular demographic, even at a pay-to-stay place, like this.

 

The selection looked like a breakfast buffet from a five-star motel. There were cereals, toast and a selection of granola bars. The latter of which, held her attention. They were sealed, so she didn’t have to worry about someone tampering with it. She took little nibbles, falling into the pace at which Josephine was eating her cereal. When her roommate got up, she did too, and followed her back to their room. If having a second shadow was annoying her, Josephine never said anything about it. It may not have looked like it, but Cheryl was grateful.

 

The first thing she did was take a shower. The hot water had a way of making her forget where she was. No prison issue soap for her. She came out feeling refreshed, wrapped in a fluffy robe (which had been provided by the prison).

 

Josephine was reading, again. Cheryl decided to give the suitcase another crack. Maybe she could use some assistance. “Josephine, I was wondering if-” Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye she saw a gray figure move. Cheryl did a half turn. "What was that?"

 

"Probably that Geraldine chick," Josie said, eyes fixed on a magazine. “I have no idea what she’s doing.”

 

Cheryl's eyes narrowed in disbelief, as she moved out into the hallway. She had seen a glimpse of a phone. "Which room are you in?"

 

"Oh, the one right across the hall."

 

Cheryl felt her adrenaline kick in, again.

 

The woman extended her hand. "I'm Gerald-"

 

Cheryl took her hand and squeezed it _hard_. You see, for many years, she had grown up with her father reading the paper during almost every meal. It was one of the few neutral behaviors that had rubbed off on her. Every morning, excluding this one, she'd get up and read the newspaper (physical or digital, didn't matter). She'd just recognized someone and, unfortunately, they weren't from the celebrity gossip pages. "Were you taking pictures of us?" she asked, fake smile on her face. Nobody outside of these walls got to see her caged, like this. _Nobody_.

 

"Do you have any idea, who your roommate is, Airhead?" The woman asked.

 

Josephine was _someone_? Well, that was new information she'd file away for later. "No, and frankly, I don't care. It's impossible to photograph her without getting me in the frame. What I do care about is _who_ you're selling those photos to."

 

Cheryl could see panic arising on the woman's face. "I think we started out on the wrong foot. Allow me to reintroduce myself, I'm-"

 

"I know exactly who you are," she whispered, her face twisted in disgust.

 

"Don't look at me like that! You don't know me! I'm innocent!"

 

The screaming had summoned Josephine into the doorway, cross armed.

 

"I don't think so. Those male students of yours, they were definitely innocent." Cheryl let go of her hand. "If I see you taking photos of us again, there won't be a single person left in here who doesn't know what you were justly convicted of," she said, turning around, walking back to her room.

 

Cheryl heard another yell, before everything faded to black.

 

* * *

 

A beam of what could only be described as heavenly light infiltrated Cheryl's vision. The brightness cleared to reveal her roommates face. Josie was also humming, softly and sweetly. That melody...it was so familiar. _Wait a minute_. At that moment, she knew exactly what Veronica had wanted to tell her. Although Cheryl was certain she was seeing double, nothing had ever been clearer. Her heart jumped (but in a totally good way). She felt fingers caressing her jaw. Something cold rested at her temple.

 

“I should get the doctor. She wanted to examine you, again, when you woke up.”

 

“Wait,” Cheryl wrapped her fingers around Josie’s wrist, “I didn’t see it, before. You’re Josie, my Josie...” She felt herself smile as her eyelids became heavy.

 

 

 


	4. Josie Gets Social

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josie is with Cheryl, as she wakes up in the medical room. They bond and come to see each other in a new light.

Josie had initially thought two things, when she first laid eyes on Cheryl. First, that the redhead looked like she just stepped out of a Vermeer painting. Second, that girl had an attitude. Josie assumed it was purely bravado but that had a way of attracting trouble. Unfortunately, Cheryl had found it in abundance. If Josie had not been there to witness the entire incident, with her own eyes, she would’ve never believed it. The whole thing just happened so fast, it felt surreal.

 

She looked around the medical room. It wasn't too shabby. She could barely remember it from her tour. The whole day had just been too traumatizing. However, seeing it again gave her some peace of mind. If anything happened to her, she would be in good hands. Doctor Cooper was an absolute professional. (It took one to know one.) There were three beds and an office. She was sitting by Cheryl, who was lying on the first bed. Josie occasionally ran her hand over Cheryl's jaw, for comfort (for whom, she wasn't totally sure). Superficial wounds gracing Josie's arms had been swabbed with disinfectant.

 

Doctor Cooper said she'd be fine, which was a huge relief to Josie. Like it or not, they were stuck with each other. Josie had become accustomed to her prickly company, in a rather short space of time. She quickly gazed at the red hair was splayed across the pillow. The color was mesmerizing. Josie had been pressing a cold compress against her forehead, for about a half hour. She was beginning to feel the cold. Luckily, Officer Andrews had brought her a blanket.

 

There was a big, old bruise forming just above Cheryl's left eyebrow. Soft mewling infiltrated Josie's ears, as Cheryl came to (again). "Where am I?"

 

"Medical room. How are you feeling?"

 

Cheryl narrowed her eyes. Josie wasn't sure whether that expression was due to pain or confusion.

 

"I have a killer headache."

 

"That's unsurprising. You were hit on the head, several times."

 

Cheryl looked at Josie, so quizzically it made her smile. "Is that what happened?"

 

Josie nodded, "Yeah. Don't you remember?"

 

Cheryl shook her head. "Ouch."

 

Josie gently pushed her shoulders back and said, "Relax, and I'll tell you the whole story." Josie discreetly pulled the edges of Cheryl's robe together. "You were arguing with _someone_ and they sucker punched you, when you turned your back. Then I hit the alarm, in our room, and tried to pull her off you."

 

"Thank you," Cheryl smiled.

 

"Officer Andrews helped, a little." Josie winked at her roommate.

 

"After how rude I was, I'm surprised you didn't just walk away."

 

"No way, I believe in karma. I hope you'd do the same for me."

 

"Of course," whispered Cheryl. It sounded like an unbreakable promise from her lips. "What happened to-"

 

Josie cut her off, not wanting to hear the dreaded name again. In spite of the pleasant atmosphere, that made it easy to forget, Josie was behind bars. The fight had served as a reminder: not everyone was in there thanks to trumped up charges (like herself). There were actual, real criminals in here. Maybe Cheryl was an actual, real criminal. Josie doubted that because she looked like she'd never done a hard day's work in her life. However, you could never be certain. She had been able to piece together certain facts from Cheryl and Geraldine's verbal exchange. "Shipped off to a state prison. I doubt that will be a fun time for her. This was her third strike. So you weren't the first person she started a fight with. Honestly, I'm surprised her screams didn't wake you." Josie shivered at the memory. The woman's pleas to stay had truly been in a blood curdling tone. She knew what was waiting for her in a state prison—especially with the nature of her crimes—and it wasn't pretty. In Josie's humble opinion, nobody deserved it more.

 

* * *

 

Josie helped Cheryl back to their room. The doctor had let her go, after giving some painkillers and another quick test of the redhead's motor skills. They'd both eaten and Josie looking forward to forgetting this whole thing had ever happened.

 

"I'm cold," said Cheryl, teeth visibly chattering.

 

"Well, you are still in your robe, Princess," replied Josie. She felt fine, but she was wearing clothes.

 

There were a few smiles, from various rooms, as they walked down the hall. Josie held Cheryl's hands as she lay on the bed. Again, Josie helped her retain modesty by joining the edges of Cheryl's robe.

 

This time, Cheryl obviously noticed. "Sorry," she said, blushing profusely. "I keep forgetting what I'm wearing in here."

 

"No problem," Josie said, smiling. It had been an eventful day for her, too. So she lay on her on her own bed. A few minutes of easy silence passed, before either spoke. There was something on Josie's mind. "Can I ask you something?"

 

"Of course, Josie."

 

There it was again. "What inspired you to start calling me Josie?" It was an easier question to ask than: _What does My Josie mean?_ It would be cruel irony, indeed, if Josie had ended up incarcerated with the spiritual successor to Annie Wilkes. There would be nowhere to hide from a stalker, behind bars.

 

"Oh. Well, I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't even recognize you. I wish I'd brought my cat's ears, now."

 

Josie laughed. Her first genuine laugh since she'd been in here. She turned to face Cheryl. "Do I really look that bad?" She watched Cheryl sit up.

 

"God, no! You just look...different. Honestly, I wasn't expecting you to even be in here."

 

Josie nodded, slowly. This would be a really good point to keep her distance. From the little she knew, Cheryl was cool. However, Josie was debating whether to keep her at arm's length. Getting close to another guest could cause future unpleasantness.

 

"Can _I_ ask _you_ something, Josie?"

 

"So now you want to be social? Maybe, this time, I'm the one who doesn't feel like talking." Josie turned her head, to look at the wall. _Wow_. Not being free to do as she pleased, was really eating away at Josie. She had to get that under control. 

 

"I definitely deserve that."

 

Now, she felt like a bitch. Who was she kidding? Josie didn't have it in her to give anyone the cold shoulder. And she definitely didn't have it in her heart to treat Cheryl, the way she'd treated her, when they first met. "What did you want to know?"

 

"I was introduced to your music, this past weekend, by my good friend. It just opened up a whole new world to me. I can't think of a time I identified with certain songs, so much. I guess I just wanted to thank you."

 

This wasn't the first time Josie had been told this. However, it was the first time she'd been told it by someone so new. "I appreciate that. I'm curious, what's your favorite song?"

 

" _Expectations,_ followed by _Upside Down._ Let's just say, I know what it's like for people to have little to no faith in you."

 

Her selection really intrigued Josie. To the point where she sat up and resumed eye contact with her roommate. _Expectations_ was a sixteen year old girl's outlet for the pressure put onto her by her parents. It was beautiful and heartfelt but rarely anybody's favorite, until now. It had always been her favorite, though. That song would tell you everything you needed to know about, Josie McCoy. _Upside Down_ was far more popular. That little gem was written after a particularly nasty argument with Reggie. It was a popular breakup anthem.

 

"I think there might be more to you than meets the eye, Cheryl." She couldn't help smiling at the other woman.

 

"Thanks for letting me follow you around, like a stray puppy. You didn't have to do that."

 

Josie was used to people - publicists, producers, managers, agents etc. - following her around. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." She looked at the suitcase, on the floor. "Would you like something to wear?"

 

Cheryl nodded, eagerly. Josie dragged the case and put it on her new friend's bed. After tugging on the zip a few times, she narrowed her eyes.

 

"Can you lean on it for me?" Josie tried the zip, again, and it opened. _Perfect_. Seeing Cheryl's face light up made Josie smile. She would definitely be content sleeping in the same room, with this side of her.

 

Cheryl almost knocked Josie down, she thew herself at her, so quickly. "Thank you. Not just for this, for everything."

 

"You're welcome," she said, holding her. After a few moments, she stepped away. Cheryl tapped the space on the bed, next to her. Josie sat, watching her pick out an outfit.

 

* * *

 

Josie was watching a nature documentary, cross legged,  when Cheryl emerged from the bathroom in a new outfit. She'd fetched some coffee and a couple of cookies. She did a little twirl, displaying her red nightdress. "How do I look, Madame Pussycat?"

 

"Effortlessly stylish." That was definitely an interesting nickname she just gave her.

 

"Do you mind, if I sit next to you?"

 

Josie made room for her. "Anyone special coming to see you on visiting day?"

 

"Just my friend, Veronica. You?" Cheryl finger combed her hair.

 

Josie cleared her throat, "My best friend, Val...and my..." Josie frowned, really hard, "...other friend."

 

"Friend? You don't sound so sure."

 

"I was in a relationship, before I ended up here. It was left unresolved." _Yes, that was the best way to explain it_.

 

"I see."

 

There was something else playing on Josie's mind. She probably wouldn't be able to sleep without asking. "You didn't kill anyone to get in here, did you, Cheryl?" She offered a cookie, trying to not make it a big deal.

 

"No, DUI. If I was a murderer, I wouldn't have been the one in the medical room."

 

 _Good point_. That crime fit her, in Josie's mind. "Thank God. I know that's super personal but I needed to know, if I was sharing a room with a more attractive, Hannibal Lector."

 

They both laughed.

 

"I once had ambitions of being a makeup artist. If you ever want me to be pampered, just say the word."

 

"I'll keep that in mind, Cheryl. By the way, thanks for stopping Geraldine taking photos. I had no idea she was trying to profit off my unfortunate situation." Josie was truly grateful for that. She handed Cheryl a cup of coffee and lifted her own, "To friendship." They clinked glasses and spent the night learning about newly discovered, aquatic life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel like leaving a comment, it would warm my heart.


End file.
